


snap his crown

by ephemeral_fallacy



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: M/M, Soulmate is the Only One in Color AU, angst.png, au in general, hhooly crap, holy shit why did I write this, monochrome world AU, this is so long im
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-25 18:00:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2630993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeral_fallacy/pseuds/ephemeral_fallacy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The hands of the King grow rough and weary and his Knight's armor comes back brown.<br/>Upon living, the Knight believes it is only pain.<br/>With the punctuality of snow and the fallen breeze,<br/>May he rest his hand upon his breast and call them free.</p>
            </blockquote>





	snap his crown

**Author's Note:**

> Your soulmate is the only one in color AU  
> So uh this is a thing  
> I don't own TOkyo g h OUL //cRIES  
> and this is a miserable failure of a tsukikane fic lol kill me
> 
> this was not beta'd and that was a huge mistake

It's summer when he first sees him, but it's only a glimpse. Through the window of a coffee shop, Tsukiyama passes by. He has places to go to, things to do, but his eyes wander to the window and amidst the haziness of gray and sharp lines of movement, he sees _color_.

_Glorious, glorious color._

But he can't pause, he looks at his watch and yes, he's going to be late, _he's already late._

But the color... Signifying a soul mate, the other half, his red thread was tied to this person inside this cafe... Tsukiyama battles in his own mind, his moonstruck, amorous side and his more logical side. In the end, his late appointment with Madam A takes precedence and he strides confidently away from the spot he was wavering on.

He doesn’t notice the pair of storm-gray eyes from within the cafe that follows his flamboyant figure desperately.

_If he did, he would've changed his mind about that late appointment..._

 

* * *

 

The second time he passes by the cafe, _purposely, of course_ , he doesn't stop at the window this time. This time, Tsukiyama pushes open the door, the brass bell tinkling like a fairy to signify his arrival, and his eyes immediately alight upon color.

He's behind the counter, in a uniform that compliments his lean figure well. He has dark hair and a beautiful gray eye, the other hidden by a white eyepatch _that only seemingly heightens the natural aura around him_ , an expression of concentration so cute that it makes Tsukiyama's heart pound against his ribs and vibrate through his body.

_He's beautiful._

Completely ignoring the girl with one eye covered by her bangs that comes to greet him, he makes a beeline to the boy, eyes gleaming.

He looks up and their eyes connect.

The din of the cafe slowly recedes into a dull murmur that eventually fades completely as the young man in front of him takes a sharp inhale. His lightly pink lips press together. His skin is glossy pale, luminescent and glowing from, presumably, the light from the lamps. He looks beautiful, in color, radiant, shy; Tsukiyama wants to kidnap him and have him all to himself.

"Excuse me?" The girl from before grabs onto his arm roughly and she looks angry. Her muted grayscale body barely interests the taller man as he strains to look back at his soulmate.

The boy hurriedly comes out from behind the counter, but clumsily and clearly nervously, to protect him from the angry waitress.

"T-touka, stop!"

His voice is heavenly, even with the crack. It makes him unique, contrary to the silver-tongued, smooth velvet voices he's used to. Tsukiyama hides the small quirk of the lips as the boy wedges himself between him and Touka.

"Who do you think you are?" She continues, her eyes glaring holes at him. "Walking in here and harassing an employee?"

"T-touka, it's okay!" He stammers and his eye rapidly blinks. "He's...a friend of mine."

The girl looks suspiciously at him and gazes at Tsukiyama, looking at his suit and his expensive shoes with a growing curl to her lip.

"Don't blame me if something bad happens," she growls and leaves, her eyes sadly lingering on the male for a moment, but Tsukiyama doesn't care for her. His eyes are on the boy the moment she leaves and he fidgets, before turning towards him.

_His name tag reads, 'Kaneki.'_

"Amore," Tsukiyama starts. "You...see me in color?"

Kaneki nods, biting his lip, and the older man has to tense his body to restrain his own arms from squeezing him in a sudden hug. Despite his greasiness at first glance, he does know a little about courtship... Tsukiyama smiles slightly instead.

"My name is Tsukiyama Shuu, ma chère," he introduces himself and he sees Kaneki's lips try out his name. It’s cute, the way his eyebrows furrow slightly and the sparkle in his eyes simply glow.

"Tsukiyama...?" He breathes out and looks up at the man. "I'm Kaneki Ken. Nice to meet you."

In his mind, he could only comprehend the blooming flower in his heart, the ache to hold his hand, to feel Kaneki’s warmth, _to love him_. He could only comprehend the start of this 'love'. Perhaps he could finally grasp the meaning of _living_ , finally.

 

* * *

 

"Your fashion sense is a bit..." Kaneki hides a grin at Tsukiyama's purple and red suit, but the flashy man only preens at his comment and watches as the black-haired boy roves back behind the counter.

It's been half a year of them together, and Tsukiyama always waits, faithfully, every day, at the Anteiku cafe for him to get off work. Sometimes he orders coffee, black, and sips as he watches his lover bustle about. He has more confidence in his work, he observes. His hands don't shake when he pours the boiling water into the coffee pot and he smiles more often.

And occasionally, his eyes wander to Tsukiyama and the man smiles back, causing an explosion of pink to blossom on Kaneki's cheeks.

It's so endearing, but he stifles the cry of très bien bubbling in his throat.

He ignores the other workers there pointedly, but he always feels a glare at the back of his head. There's the grumpy waitress and a bespectacled waiter, both of whom look familiar. For some reason, he can't place their names and he's not particularly bothered by it.

_All that matters is Kaneki._

By now, it's almost to closing hour and the customers are slowly filing out of the door, leaving dirty dishes and dirty seats. Kaneki frowns as Touka moves to the back of store to talk to the manager, but he washes a towel and sets himself up to clean the messes.

In seeing his displeased scowl, Tsukiyama quickly gets up silently and from behind him, slips the rag out of Kaneki's hand.

"Do not stress yourself, amore," he whispers more into Kaneki's neck than his ear. He takes a deep breath and smells all seven sins in heaven, almost rolling his eyes back in pleasure. The black-haired male only jumps up in fright, his eyes wide.

“Tsukiyama!” In an almost scolding tone, he snatches back the towel. “It’s not your job…”

But the man is persistent.

He reaches for the towel and swiftly tugs it out of the uniformed male’s hands, an affectionate smile curling on his lips. Kaneki’s scent is on the towel and he conspicuously sniffs at it. _perfection…_

Turning back to the slightly frustrated young man, Tsukiyama lifts his hand with his free one and presses a kiss to it, lightly, feeling smooth, supple skin. Behind his lashes, he looks up and is pleased to notice the pink flush in Kaneki’s cheeks. “Someone like you should not have to work so hard…”

_In his mind, King echoes and he agrees._

_A King shall not have to dirty his hands. His Knight shall do that for him._

 

* * *

 

Tsukiyama’s suits have increasingly gotten more colorful and eccentric.

Partially, because the embarrassed, but amused grin on Kaneki’s face is worth more than his own pride. Only he refuses to believe that himself, _his pride is the most important, after all_. But what he can’t deny is that his life revolves around the shy ghoul.

He’s spent less time at the Ghoul Restaurant and more time at Anteiku. From inside of him, he’s felt a change, a change he can’t name as good or bad. He’s attacked less humans, coveted less of their _magnifique_ screams, and instead, he has been drinking more coffee and cannibalizing.

A plus side would be that he was getting stronger, but _would people still call him the Gourmet?_

He needed to reaffirm his title…

Brushing a hand across Kaneki’s cheek, _ah, dolce_ , he leaves a kiss upon the silver-lit cheek and leaves as quickly as he had come.

Tsukiyama doesn’t dare leave a note, he’s sure Kaneki will look for him, and a part of him doesn’t want him to see what lays inside of his loving outer shell. He doesn’t want those pure eyes to be tainted with blood, _no, for the first time, he hasn’t wanted someone to suffer._

Kaneki can surely live a week without him…

The boy wrapped snugly in the sheets moves slightly and Tsukiyama hears a whisper of his name rolling off his lips. His heart melts and he desperately fights the urge to curl around his lover and pull him close, to feel his heartbeat resonate through his own body.

Never to leave him, _he can’t possibly leave him._

_Gently, so gently, as gently as he brushes his fingers over Kaneki’s body, Tsukiyama closes the door to keep Kaneki from seeing the wreck he really is._

 

* * *

 

When Tsukiyama comes back, f _resh, he has a new suit, the scent of blood is nowhere to be smelled, he’s made sure, he’s scrubbed himself clean, regretfully,_ Kaneki is nowhere to be seen.

Anteiku is closed, its blinds shut tightly and the ‘closed’ sign hanging from the door. Dread creeps into his gut and he swallows a gulp of air, has to consciously keep his breathing cycling. _Kaneki…_

He peers into the door, but it’s dark inside as well. Creeping about to the back, he sees the waitress with her one eye covered. Touka, if he wasn’t mistaken. She looks up, gazes at him for a moment, before dropping her eyes. The fight is out of her, _she’s wrong, she’s acting wrong, she’s supposed to be angry._

“Touka,” he calls out and she doesn’t respond. Not a single curse.

“Touka.” Tsukiyama’s voice is laced with impatience. “Where is Kaneki?”

Her hand opens, her face still blank. She looks at her hand and looks back at Tsukiyama, her eyes almost accusing.

“He’s gone, what else,” her soft voice makes Tsukiyama have to strain to hear her.

“ _What do you mean, he’s gone_?” He strides towards her, stands in front of her, accusingly glaring at her limp body. She’s still in uniform, on schedule, _Kaneki can’t have possibly gone far_. “Did you stop him? **Where is he**.”

He no longer asks. It’s simply a statement and he chooses to grip Touka’s shoulders and shake her violently. His heart is thumping, his throat is dry, there’s a burn in his heart that he needs so desperately to put out.

“Where?!”

“He went to look for you,” she forces out and pushes him away. “Leave me alone! _It’s all your fault!_ ”

Touka is crying, light-reflecting tears running down her face. Her shoulders tremble as she raises her hands to her face, folding in on her herself. Tsukiyama takes a step back, two steps, his heart still and his breathing stopping.

_What is the Knight without his King?_

_Nothing._

 

* * *

 

In the dim moonlight, Tsukiyama lays on the bed, wrapped in sheets that barely smell of his lover. He misses the color in his life, now that he has seen it. He misses the warmth in his hands, misses the small quirks of Kaneki that always brightened his day.

The smile he would die for is gone, and after days of searching, he can’t fathom where else Kaneki would’ve gone to find him.

Tsukiyama slams a fist on the bed, feeling empty inside, his heart aching and his fingers digging crescents in his palm. _Nothing hurts, nothing except what’s inside of him._

“Where did you go, amore,” he breathes out and another wave of pain washes over him, suffocating him, _he can’t possibly breathe, there’s a weight pressing on him because it’s all his fault, his guilt, his denial, he wishes he stopped himself because nothing matters more than Kaneki and he sees that now._ “Please…”

The moon laughs condescendingly at him as the stars aggravate him more so with their cold twinkling eyes, watching his suffering.

They tell him that _the Kaneki he knew is gone, that he can no longer be saved._

In vain, Tsukiyama tries to suppress the tears that shake his body.

“Did I have to meet you, King…” he murmurs and takes a deep breath that startles him.

_Kaneki’s scent._

“Kaneki?!” He bolts upright, his eyes wide and his heart thumping so loudly he can barely hear.

There’s a shadow on the windowsill, crouching carefully, clothes tattered. But there’s no eyepatch, no neat black hair. The kakugan flashes at him, before dissolving back into pristine white and calm gray eyes, but in seeing Tsukiyama, there’s no flush in his cheeks. Kaneki carefully steps down, making no noise, not even a sway to the side.

_Perfect balance._

“Tsukiyama…” Kaneki’s voice is so sweet, yet so bitter in his ears that the man forgets to breathe. White hair, a tired expression, _what happened…?_

Tsukiyama scrambles to his feet and bows fervently, and looks up pleadingly at his lover, the guilt slamming into his stomach almost like a physical blow. “Kaneki, _amore_ , I am so sorry—”

“Be quiet, Tsukiyama.”

The man jerks up and his eyes widen, almost in fright. _He’s changed, so much..._

“Why,” Tsukiyama breathes out. “I would have come back for you, you did not have to…”

“It’s too late,” Kaneki moves to crouch but the man below him stops him, with a kiss to his leg.

It’s muscled, lean and salty of sweat, but the scent and the taste is so uniquely _him_. As Tsukiyama brushes his lips lower, to his ankle, he notices the darkened scars around his ankles. _Scars…_ He feels a tremble run through Kaneki and amidst the swelling of dark emotion, he feels a sense of accomplishment.

_This is the least he can do._

“Kaneki, please,” he softly murmurs and gets up. The expression on the snow-haired boy is unreadable, _so unlike his past self_ , and it pains Tsukiyama to see it.

He gently lays his lover on the bed, eyes soft, hurting, hopefully having an effect on Kaneki. And it does.

Kaneki lifts a hand and cups Tsukiyama’s cheek, almost commandingly pulling him towards his face for a kiss. The power and dominance of his movement causes the older man to feel a rush of displeasure, but it quickly dissolves as the taste of his lover invades his tastebuds. Their tongues tangle together as the heavier build of Tsukiyama pins Kaneki down, but in pressing himself against the warmth, the guilt returns like a kagune piercing through him.

“I…” As they separate, Tsukiyama pants softly, before raising his upper body. “Kaneki, let me do as I please, today…”

The white-haired male gazes at him, before slowly nodding.

“Where did you get the scars…?” The purple-haired ghoul starts, and for a while Kaneki is silent. However, the quiet allows Tsukiyama to focus on pulling off his lover’s shirt. The moonlight illuminates his pale skin silver, just like it did before, but the ridges of his newly formed muscles are new, casting dark shadows on his stomach.

He kisses and praises each inch of battered skin, feels the ridges of scars against his lips and a part of his soul cries, _how dare they touch Kaneki, how dare they mar his skin, he is a King, and Kings should be treated as so…_

What draws him out of his thoughts is Kaneki’s lower voice, growling out, “I looked for you, and someone else found me.”

Tsukiyama’s hands clench the sheets and Kaneki notices, shifting with a frown. Yet, his anger does not keep him from kissing every inch of his body. And his hands unclench and caress the hands that are loosely by Kaneki’s sides. They’re rough to the touch, not the softness that they were before. He can feel rigid bone and angular lines, and healed skin, _things that should not be there._

“I took care of him,” he says shortly, and the tenseness in Tsukiyama’s body leaves him in an instant.

“He’s gone?” Tsukiyama murmurs, and laces his fingers with Kaneki’s, a swelling in his heart as the fingers gladly accommodate his.

“...Perhaps,” Kaneki replies and reaches with his other hand to run his fingers through Tsukiyama’s hair, messing up the perfectly styled hair that he always sports.

Kaneki’s eyes are a glowing gray, different from before, but yet, just the same. And the soft expression on his face is so painfully familiar that Tsukiyama forgets to breathe, forgets to worship the body he was made to worship, just for a moment. There’s a smile on those pale lips and his white hair falls into his eyes in a way that makes the man want to brush them away.

_So he can see the whole of Kaneki better. So that he won’t have to run away from his past anymore._

_Because he knows, those pained eyes tell him he knows everything and it’s useless to hide._

“King,” Tsukiyama whispers, and Kaneki presses a finger to his lips, his eyebrows furrowing in that concentrated way that he always does.

“Me?”

_Yes, you,_ Tsukiyama wants to reply, but Kaneki closes his eyes and the smile disappears.

“If only I had an unbroken crown, Tsukiyama.”

 

* * *

 

Now that Kaneki is back, Tsukiyama’s step has a spring in it. He hasn’t changed, not quite. Books are still his favorite gift, and Tsukiyama has been vigilant in surprising his lover with pleasant gifts. Anteiku’s inside is warm again, and Touka is no longer broken, although she normally avoids contact with Tsukiyama after that incident.

Tsukiyama waits at the same table, his eyes never leaving Kaneki’s form for a moment. The way he pours coffee is just the same, but his walking style is different now. A stronger gait, and the older man only closes his eyes in imagining the beauty of his lover’s body, a shudder overwhelming him.

A clink of a teacup on a table brings him out of his reverie and Kaneki’s glorious, colored self is in front of him with a pleasant smile.

“Tsukiyama, your coffee.”

_The fragrance of it cannot compare to Kaneki’s smell that leaves him in dire need of contact._

“Amore,” Tsukiyama whispers, and his fingers catch on the starched, white sleeve. “I miss you.”

Kaneki’s eyes widen as he pauses, blinking. “Are you...alright?”

The older ghoul doesn’t reply, only lets go of the sleeve, his arm falling limply to his side. _He should be happy, Kaneki is back, he is here, with him_. But a part of him frustratedly pulls at his own heartstrings, telling him that Kaneki is not back, that he’s different and he no longer sees Tsukiyama as the color of his life.

_There’s something else that he values, more than himself, more than his lover._

Tsukiyama gazes at the back that is turned to him, tracing the muscles underneath the clothing, licking his lips at the reminder of the taste.

Then, it hits him, when he sees the smile that Kaneki brings to Touka’s face, the less-frown that the bespectacled waiter has when looking at him.

Perhaps that’s why he started loving him so quickly. _It was something he craved so badly, and yet, could have nothing of._

Until he met him.

Perhaps they all saw him in color, because he was the light in everyone’s life.

_Did he lie? The entire time? Lying beside him as he watched his body flourish in pale silver and peach? He’s so filled with love that he willingly breaks himself to glue others back together. He’s filled with selflessness, and yet, Tsukiyama is made of selfishness._

The purple-haired ghoul stares at his hands, the gray lines on his palm blurring into a screen of gray that blinds him.

_The King snaps his crown to save his subjects._

 

* * *

 

“I won’t let you go,” Tsukiyama stands and his hair covers his eyes, tears running down his face. He sways from side to side as Kaneki stands up to face him, gray eyes unreadable.

“This color I see,” the older ghoul looks up and in his eyes, the gray and peach blur together with the tears that blanket over his eyes. “I cannot let it disappear.”

Nature is silent, stands still for the two of them as everything fades between them. The only sound is Tsukiyama’s harried breathing and unpleasant tears.

“If something...happens to you, what am I supposed to do?”

His spine bends forwards and his fingers grip at his hair, his bones creaking and cracking from within him as he pulls. With the snap of his fingers as he twists his hand beyond human possibility, _his sanity follows._

Tsukiyama’s koukaku shoots out quickly as he lunges towards Kaneki, his eyes gleaming with insanity as deep pools of void. The bones mend themselves just as quickly as they are broken, but the pain stabs individually into his heart. _The heart made so carefully by his gentle hands._

“ **Do your eyes not work?!** ” He screams, his eyes squeezed tightly closed as he blindly swings his koukaku in the attempt to disable his lover. “ **With that much battle power, even with my connections, even with the Tsukiyama family’s power, it all comes to _naught!_!** ”

The scent of blood stings his nose, but the ephemeral taste of sweetness doesn’t stop his violent onslaught. Nothing can, nothing but his dead body or Kaneki’s.

“What do you suggest I do, Kaneki?!”

The white-haired ghoul’s eyes are empty, yet full of pity.

Yet, with the flash of his kakugan and a rinkaku that impales through Tsukiyama’s body, Kaneki barely moves. His fingers do not twitch, but his eyes are unwavering as they watch the shuddering form in front of him.

_Does Kaneki see the color that Tsukiyama sees?_

“For dear life…”

Kaneki does not stir, a king with the step of stone.

“Kaneki, would you please not go?”

He bends at the knee, kneeling over Tsukiyama’s prone form. His finger movements are so controlled, precise, _painfully pitying._

“I’m sorry," he whispers, his voice low. Tsukiyama doesn't dare take a breath.

"I appreciate you coming to stop me, but," Kaneki pauses for a moment as his eyes rove over his partner's limp body. Tsukiyama does not see the emotion in his gray eyes, it  _looks just like the first time **he**  saw color_, because it feels like an eternity to wait for the words that will never come.

_The King's eyes are soft as he regards his loyal Knight._

"I'm done with not being able to do a thing."

 

* * *

 

 

**_upon the ground,_ **   
**_he lays his crown,_ **   
**_with tears that stain the snow red,_ **   
**_taking with him his Knight's armor_ **   
**_and the color he brought with him,_ **   
**_that fine, summer day._ **

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> im sorry  
> there were inconsistencies  
> i hate this lmao
> 
> still kill m e


End file.
